Crying on public transport is always a bit embarrassing and it had been a while since I’d done it. Nonetheless, as I curled up on the Oxford Tube earlier this evening and watched the snowy surrounds of the M40 whizzing past, I found the tears streaming uncontrollably down my face. It was dark, the coach…
In a space-making endeavour, I am sorting through and chucking out lots of my old clutter. I come across a file of old university essays and skim through them. About to start a masters, I find myself freaking out that my brain is no way up to scratch. For goodness sake, when I was 20…
Well exci(t)ed about my imminent move to London. Having never really planned to live there again, I am bizarrely warming to the prospect of return. Am not envisaging this voluntary resettlement becoming permanent, but one learns (reluctantly) to never say never. My hear(t) language, with i(t)s dropped ts and lazy grammar, bubbles to the surface and I…
This road sign has always prompted a mini crisis. Even though I’ve driven past it a billion times, it always kicks off the same thought process. The thought process goes as follows: Firstly, I always read it as Central Asia not Central Area, and my heart gives a cheery little involuntary flutter. Hmmm, I then…
We sauntered down Cowley Road, full of Rice Box noodles and spicy spare ribs, to enjoy the milder, lighter evening and see who we’d bump into. I hadn’t realised there were so many Indians in Oxford. At any rate, most of them were out last night, euphorically celebrating their World Cup win. From groups…
It was a quiet reopening at the start of term, but sometimes those are the best opportunities to actually chat. A bit of table football and Wii, leftover mince pies, and the happy jokes and comfortable banter that come with shared experience and the security of consistent friendship. All with the familiar background battle over whose phone pumps Afghani music – just a…
emilyintheworld 